My Last Piece - A Brief History
Unfortunately, this will serve as the last thing I am guaranteed to post. As much as I'd like to keep producing sexy stories for you all I've just lost the passion to write like I used to. That doesn't mean that meeting everyone wasn't the most fun experience I've ever had and sharing this time with you all has been literally life-changing! I love you! That's right, YOU. Whoever's reading this right now, I'm talking directly to you. I LOVE you, for having read my work, enjoyed it, followed it, or even just taken a quick scan. I write to make people happy, but now I have to do what makes me happy and I guess I'm just not capable of multitasking :( Still, my work is up here permanently. It'll never go anywhere and I'll check back every so often so message me if you like! But anyway, this story in particular is a strange departure from my normal repertoire of kinks, but that's because it's a true story. This is a recounting (as best as I can remember, and I have pretty good long-term memory) of why and how I believe I became the person I am today. It's a story told from the perspective of a young dragon in a world that he barely understood. I hope you enjoy, and I wish everyone success, joy, and satisfaction till the end of their days. Thank you all :)
Some people spend their whole lives looking for the source of their oddity, their spice. For me, it was far less mysterious.
I pushed through the front doors into the linoleum-lined lobby, head down and eyes watching only my feet. I always felt my heartbeat increase tenfold the closer I got to that room. I took a few deep breaths, straightened out my hair, and walked into another day of my high school career. It was the same as every other.
"Morning!" she beamed brightly as I took my usual seat behind her. She had done her hair differently this morning, put light blue highlights all down the length of her black locks. I smiled shakily.
"Morning, Morgan," I said meekly, hoping that the teacher would begin quickly before she had the chance to really sink her teeth into me. I felt a sharp tap against my shoulder and sighed, turning around.
"Morning to you, too, Kristina," I muttered. Her predatory glare was all that I got in response. She was the one I most feared.
"Morning," she smirked. "We're getting those log tests back today. Think you did alright?"
I gulped. "I hope so."
"Me too," she said and leaned back in her desk. I turned back around to see Morgan giggling under her breath. She was noisily chewing a piece of gum.
"You better hope you passed at least, or we're going to have a little talk about motivation," she warned, waving her finger at me.
"I think I did," I said, trying to sound reassuring. "But I kinda...lost track when we got to number 16."
"Lost track? You mean you failed," Kristina said from behind me. "Seriously? This is the third one this week."
"I'm sorry! I...have problems with math," I protested, eyes still cast down at my desk.
"Cool, that matters!" Morgan said mockingly. "Problems or not, I don't have the time to waste on this shit and that means that you better do twice as well on the next one. If you pass, we pass, and then we treat you like a man! Wouldn't that be nice for once?"
"Yeah but if you keep this shit up you're going to keep getting treated like a little boy," Kristina said and flicked my ear.
"I promise, I think I really did OK on this one!" I said. This seemed to appease them. They slunk back in their desk chairs, smirking.
"We'll see," Morgan said. The teacher came back right when he was needed least, but took notice of Morgan's audacious chewing.
"McCoy, get that gum outta my classroom," he said threateningly.
"Aye, aye, Cap," she said, rolling her eyes. There was a sudden ring from the phone and he turned his back to answer it. As he did, Morgan picked the sticky pink wad from between her glossy lips and discreetly spat on it, then held it to my lips. The class had their noses in their books. I know. I looked at all of them before opening my mouth hesitantly and feeling it roll down my tongue. I knew what she expected. With a gulp and a silent grimace, I swallowed the gum and looked back down to my papers. Please God, just let me have passed this one test.
God is not real.
That, or he's terribly slow at answering his emails.
When the bell sounded and the class shuffled out into the hallway, I thought I could sneak away before they got to me. Maybe I thought I could reach my next class and be safe.
"You've got gym now," Morgan said, flanking me from my right as Kristina took the same position to my left. "We know."
"I...I really thought I did well," I said, afraid to look at either of them. Kristina jabbed my ribs with a pencil.
"Bummer," she scoffed and jabbed me again. The gym was emptied as the class went out to the tennis courts to enjoy the sun, but I was to wait in the boys' locker room until Morgan and Kristina came for me. I sat in the very back row of lockers, silently hoping that a teacher would catch me and I'd be sent to the principal's for detention or expulsion or whatever they wanted to do to me...but they never did. The doors opened and I heard the speedy clicking of their shoes against the concrete floor.
"Where you at, bitch-boy?" Kristina said. I exited my hiding spot and revealed myself with a whimper.
"Here," I said. Kristina grabbed me by the shirt and dragged me out through the gymnasium and into the girls' locker room. I was already told what would happen if a teacher caught me here; I would be called a creep, a pervert sneaking around the girls' lockers, and I wouldn't say a word to anyone. They knew it. I knew it.
When they had made sure the coast was completely clear, they crossed their arms and stood side-by-side. They didn't need to say anything; I knew the drill already. Pulling off my shirt and pants was easy, but the next part was always the most difficult.
"Jesus, will you hurry up?" Kristina tapped her foot against the concrete loudly. "We've only got fifty minutes."
I felt my face burn up as I slid out of my boxers and stood before my tormentors in full. Their sharp laughter made me shiver.
"Oh my god, he hasn't even grown an inch!" Morgan laughed. "He's still so small!"
"When was the last time we checked?" Kristina asked. "I think it was, like, Wednesday?"
"How pathetic," she mused. She reached out and gave the head of my penis a sharp flick, making me jump. She slapped my belly and glared at me. "Stay the fuck still."
Another hard flick, but this time I was less skittish. She grew tired of it when my fear faded, and they decided to move on to harsher punishment.
"You know what I got on that log test?" Kristina asked. "A fucking thirty-seven. What the fuck did you even study, little-dick?"
"Right? It sure wasn't logarithms, bitch," she said and pinched my nipple hard enough to make me squeak. Another hard slap on my reddening tummy silenced me just as quickly. "You should be thanking me for keeping you quiet. If Mrs. Peters comes in during your punishment, you become the school pervert!"
"Maybe we should just tell her that we caught him in here?" Kristina suggested. "Get it over with?"
"No, please!" I protested, instantly regretting my outburst. Kristina slapped my cheek hard enough to bring tears to my eyes and then held her finger in my face threateningly.
"You keep your mouth shut," she warned. "This isn't about you."
I sniveled, naked, cold, shivering before the two young women as they decided my fate.
"No, I don't want anyone to think we associate with the school weirdo, and if we want to keep him around I guess we'll have to save that as a last resort," Morgan reasoned.
"Yeah, good point," Kristina nodded. They turned back to me. "Punishment time!"
I began shivering noticeably. Kristina grabbed me by the back of my neck and pushed me down a row of lockers to an empty bench and forced me to sit.
"Legs," she ordered. I laid down on my back and raised my legs so Morgan could get a good grip on my ankles. "God, what girl would ever be interested in that?"
"Probably best that we found you, huh? Otherwise you'd end up becoming the laughing stock of the whole school if you ever tried showing that to a girl like me or Krissy," Morgan giggled. "It's better we take care of you."
"Get your arms where they belong," Kristina ordered as she took her belt off and knelt down next to my head. My arms were tied to the bench support and fastened tight as she stood back up and took off her socks and shoes. Both socks were stuffed into my mouth, but the shoes were placed to the side. Then she stood above me on the bench and positioned her foot right above my balls. She hovered, as if waiting for something. "What did you get on that quiz, bitch-boy?"
I whimpered, unable to speak through the gag and my own frantic breathing.
"Thirty-seven?" she asked rhetorically. "Well, then you get thirty-seven this time."
And with that, my world became a swirling vortex of desperate squealing and solid thuds. Every time her foot came down, it drew from me another pleading, sobbing prayer to her that she would stop. God could do nothing to stop it, so God was not to whom my prayers went. It was to them. My Goddesses, my Queens who decided my life for me.
I think I passed out once, but usually I managed to stay quite awake. Morgen never did any stomping, but she once kicked me so hard I almost threw up. That was right outside the back entrance to the high school, when she thought that I might've been talking to teachers about our...relationship. I hadn't, of course, but that didn't really matter to her. It wasn't about what actually happened, you see. It was more about what they wanted to happen.
"Hey, hey!" I felt Kristina slapping my face through the haze of her vicious stomping. "Wake the fuck up, I didn't even do it that hard."
"You're done," Morgan said, pulling the socks from my mouth. "Are you going to get better grades next time?"
"Yes," I whispered as she undid my hands. I was still sobbing, trying to be as quiet as I could, but they noticed. They sat next to me on both sides and silently wrapped their arms around my shoulders. Just because they weren't mothers yet didn't mean they weren't women. They saw a child crying, and even though this child had become an avatar of all their imperfections, their pains, their fears, they still saw him as...theirs.
It's a strange thing to be wanted, isn't it? Even if you're wanted for a bounty. The search for who we are or why we are is a lifelong quest that many might never solve at all. For me, I think life pretty much served it up Gordon Ramsey-style.
Our relationship never became sexual, if you can believe that. I never saw them in anything but their school clothes, never had an orgasm by their hands, nor even got aroused during their torture...but I loved it. Every minute, every second, that pulse-pounding thrill of having no control, free-falling infinitely...it's a magical thing. At least for me.
And, to be fair, my grades improved under their heels, I ate healthier, worked out more. Perhaps most importantly, I realized as they wiped my tears away and cradled me until my sobbing stopped, that they made me feel...needed. Not for myself, but for them. I was their outlet, their punching bag, and boy howdy do I have the marks to prove it. They needed something to save them from their homes, from their own lives, and that was me. It was a big responsibility...but I could take it. For all it was worth...I'd do it the same way. Every. Single. Time.